


this is gonna take me down

by theyellowumbrella



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/F, enjoy, i'm arizona trash lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-24 01:33:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4900447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyellowumbrella/pseuds/theyellowumbrella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arizona Robbins has not always been so lucky in love.</p><p>(slightly disregards canon)</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is gonna take me down

**Author's Note:**

> Callie's part is shorter because she was clearly lucky there. also, the mentions of Amelia in her part were unplanned. Sorry about that. the main au is amelizona, so note that.
> 
> // title is from wildest dreams by taylor swift

You're one of those rare kids that discovers themselves early on in life and has no problem with it whatsoever. You don't exactly grow up in the age of sexual revelations, but it is no longer black and white and you know full well that girls can love girls and boys can love boys.

The first person you ever have a crush on is a girl called May and you are eight years old. She partners up with you when you do dancing in P.E. because she says boys are gross and it's down to you, James with the too long hair and short Adam. May grins at you with two of her teeth missing and you parade around the sports hall like a couple of toddlers.

You quickly become best friends. You're new to this school and so you haven't really settled into a friend group yet except for a few of the popular girls that look sort of like you with their blonde hair and blue eyes, and May's friends are all lovely and accept you with open arms. Still, the two of you end up attached at the hip in no time, and soon May is spending nights and weekends at your house and you hers.

You've never really had crushes before, being that you're eight years old, but you don't care too much for the butterflies that float around in the pit of your stomach when you're around her. You actually welcome the butterflies, because you're a butterfly kind of girl and the fluttery feeling makes you smile when you're feeling kind of down.

But when it's at the point that when you and May are cuddling in your bed late at night every fibre of your being is tingling and you have to hold her as close to you as physically possible or else you're afraid that the feeling you've grown used to will disappear, you know that this is something more than you originally thought.

So, the first thing you think to do is talk to May about it because no matter what, she is your best friend over anything else.

"May?" you ask her when she takes her seat next to you on the bus one day, dropping her book bag to the ground with a huff.

"Yeah?" she replies, an easy smile taking over her face. Even just at that tiny notion, your heart leaps and jumps and you start grinning.

"Have you had like, a crush on someone yet?" you ask. Your voice is hushed—just in case someone hears you—and your eyes are worried, because you're already fucking terrified that she's already figured it out and hates you.

"Hmm," she considers, "I don't really know. Why? Have you?"

You hesitate for a minute before ultimately shaking your head. "No. Just— I just heard some of the girls talking about it and I wondered, that's all."

She then goes onto start chattering about something she saw on TV last night and your mind is momentarily taken off of the situation at hand. That is until May starts laughing at something you say, and your stomach does the butterfly thing. But still, you're able to ignore it and attempt to listen to what May's saying.

After a few months, you decide to approach May. She's kind and understanding and she said once that you'd always be best friends, no matter what. You suppose that this is no matter what.

"Hey, I need to talk to you," you say one day as the two of you come rushing into your bedroom after school. May is staying the night at your place and you've decided that this is the perfect time to talk to her about it.

"What's up?" she asks. She kicks her shoes off, drops her book bag onto your floor and settles comfortably onto your bed.

"Do you remember when I spoke to you a couple months ago about crushes? We were on the bus."

"Um, yeah. Why?" Her eyes are wide, curious and absolutely captivating. "Well... I kinda lied last time; I do have a crush on someone. But– I don't really know how to explain this to you, because I'm really scared you were lying when you said you would like me no matter what," you explain nervously.

"Ari, just tell me. I can handle it, I promise." You take a deep breath.

"My crush is on you. I-I have a crush on... you." And then the worst comes: she looks absolutely disgusted. She immediately jumps away, flinching at your hand on top of hers.

"What?" she spits, "That's gross! You're gross!" You're only eight years old at this point and have never had to deal with any of this homophobic bullshit, and you barely even know what's happening.

"What? You-you said—"

"That's disgusting. Get away from me." May puts her shoes back on, grabs her book bag and scrambles to find your mommy. She fakes a cough, says that she feels sick and asks her to call her mom to come pick her up. Instead, your mom leaves you alone whilst she takes May home instead of bothering her mother.

You cry that night for hours into your father's shirt, and he quickly ships you right out of state and to another school. He never asks why, and neither does Tim or your mom, and it becomes an unspoken rule not to ever talk about it.

/

The first person you ever come out to is a girl called Dixie. Well, her name is not actually Dixie because that's a ridiculous name, but she never tells you her real name. She has a pixie cut which is streaked with electric blue and she wears chokers and leather jackets on a daily basis.

You meet her in the library where you're trying to discreetly read a book about coming out. You're not exactly good at hiding it or anything, but nobody formally knows and you don't know how to actually tell anybody. The last time you did, it went down in flames.

"My Lord, you're actually reading a book on how to come out of the closet?" she asks in a raspy voice. She's the kind of person that reels you in the minute you see her and makes you want to know more.

A smile graces your lips. "Yeah, well, not all of us are so blessed in the way of words."

You're fourteen years old and have started curling your hair and wearing shocking red lipstick. Although you are certainly no Dixie, you are a catch. Boys stare at you now, and sometimes girls do, too.

Dixie is at least sixteen and you feel intimidated by her presence, but glad that she doesn't appear to be judging you in any way, shape or form. Underneath the leather jacket, she's sporting a crop top with a rainbow on it and some words about LGBT rights. It's dark grey and is tight around the chest, and your eyes wander for about a nanosecond before you realise that she'll notice and quickly avert your eyes.

"So," she says, sitting in the seat next to you, "you're queer, huh?"

"Um, yeah— is that the term now? I thought that— it's gay now, isn't it?" you stumble.

"Queer is just any non-binary sexuality. I didn't wanna label you as gay in case you weren't, y'know?" she explains 

"Oh. Well. Yeah. But I am."

"You are what?" she asks, genuinely curious.

"Gay. Or, at least I think. I mean, I've known I liked girls since I was eight. But maybe I'll like a boy someday, you know?"

"How old are you?" Dixie's eyes are dark brown, and staring right at you. She's quite pretty.

"Fourteen," you answer timidly.

"You're gay. If you're fourteen years old and have never had a crush on a boy, it probably won't ever happen."

"Oh. Well, then."

You're pretty sure you only believe her because Dixie is older than you and seems like a well-educated lesbian—no, queer person. No assumptions are to be made, you remember.

You and Dixie grow closer over the next few months. You're pretty sure that she only sees you as a younger sister and nothing more, but the butterflies have returned and you curse yourself every night for it. She's standing there with you when you work up the courage to tell your father, hand clutching yours tightly to stop it from shaking, and is sitting in the background when you tell your brother.

On the last day of freshman year, Dixie comes to tell you that she's transferring schools. Her dad got a promotion or something—the same story as always. She's sad to leave you and hopes you come out to everyone, and she's always a call away.

You decide to kiss her now, because you're fifteen years old and have gone up a cup size since you first met and have been harbouring a crush on her for six months now.

She kisses back for a minute before pulling away and stroking your face gently. "Kid. No way in fuckin' hell. You're hot, and barely fifteen years old. But you're gonna get a girl someday, okay? She'll make you feel better than I ever did. You won't even remember who I am in ten years. Promise."

/

When you're in college, you meet the first person you think is the love of your life. Her name is Eilidh, and her brown hair comes down past her butt, and her blue eyes look identical to yours. She is a simply excellent kisser, and does this magnificent thing with her tongue that you can't get enough of.

You meet in the lunch hall. You're laughing with your friend Kelly when some girl taps you on the shoulder. You're behind her in line and her eyes are frantic, and she hurriedly asks you to pass her a bottle of water that's out of her reach. Of course, because you're Arizona Robbins and one of the nicest people in the world, you grin and hand her the bottle, and the two of you end up sitting together.

She is in an experimental bicurious phase, but you quickly fall in love and find that she has no problem coming into her own. You end up dating pretty quickly, her kissing you the third time you hang out.

It's easy and feels good, and she's amazing in bed. But you quickly realise that you're not only dating Eilidh, but also the wide range of things wrong with her. She is depressed and anxious and stressed and sometimes she hears voices and the only reason you stick around is because you love her so much. You think that had you not fallen in love with her, you would have left a long time ago. But now, you see yourself spending your life with this girl.

You're going to pick her up for a date one night when you stumble across a dark and empty dorm room. On her desk, there is a piece of paper with smudged ink stains and tears and blood and everything you could possibly imagine on it, accompanied by Eilidh's beautiful handwriting. Except this time it's shaky, and looks more like an apology than a love letter.

At the bottom of the page, the heartbreaking words lie: _Arizona - if love were enough, we'd spend the rest of our lives in each other's arms._

The funeral is quiet and dignified, and you don't cry until you're at home months later. You're trying to study for finals when you stumble across a book of poems that Eilidh bought you, and you come undone.

/

Amelia Shepherd starts her first year as a med student when you're in your last. She is hot and the best Hopkins' freshman year has to offer, and is a complete breath of fresh air compared to your ex. Much like Eilidh, though, she is also in an experimental bicurious phase.

She's not the love of your life, or even your girlfriend, really. She's your friend more than anything, who knows how to fuck. She lets you tell her your problems whilst she kisses your neck and you break your teeth on a bottle of tequila, and always puts them into perspective because at least you're not a drug addict. She's not the type of girl you bring home to meet your parents, or even the type of girl you tell them about. The only people that get to know are Tim and Nick, and they both take great pleasure in mocking you for being that one perverted senior who fucks the freshman.

But Amelia's fucked up, too. Oxy is her best friend over everyone, and even though she's doing good with not overdosing and is keeping her focus on becoming a doctor, she still can't help herself. She quickly becomes your best friend, and she is tearing herself apart slowly.

She comes to you one day when she's high out of her fucking mind, and she wants you to fuck her. But Amelia is so young and she looks terrified and _small_ , and if there's one thing Amelia Shepherd isn't it is small. She is smart and funny and beautiful and volatile and addictive, but she is not small. So instead of sex, you cuddle for hours and hours. She tries to hit you away, but it doesn't work. You lay there holding her all night, and when you wake up she is gone.

When you graduate from med school and get an internship with a prestigious hospital out of state, you don't bother to keep in touch. There's no point anymore.

/

When you're a first year resident, you're on call and trying to get some sleep. You're drifting when your pager starts buzzing, the blue light flashing inconsiderately in your face. You groan and stroll down to the pit, where a paramedic is rolling in a girl on a gurney with a bruised face. She looks sickeningly familiar, and it takes a few minutes for it to click. This is Dixie.

You feel like you might throw up. You want to run as fast as you can away from here, to the safety of an on-call room, or your bedroom, but your legs can't move, and then she spots you. "Arizona?" she coughs out weakly.

Her hair has grown out a little to her shoulders and there's no longer any blue in it, but she's still the same Dixie from when you were fourteen.

"H-hi. Oh my— Dixie. What happened?"

"Ten years later, huh? You didn't forget me after all."

"What happened?" you repeat.

"Some stupid motherfuckers thought they were hard or— I think they call it a hate crime nowadays."

"They did this to you because you're gay? They— no. No!"

And then your resident tells you that you're off the case because you're too close to it, considering it was a gay hate crime and you're a lesbian, and not to mention your connection with the actual patient. You protest at first; they can't keep you off of a case because of your sexuality. That's discrimination! But because of your little time at the hospital, you quickly are forced to  give up. It's a lost cause.

You sneak into Dixie's room at night. She's sitting up reading, her face stitched and bruised, and looking completely older. "Hey, kiddo."

"I'm only two years younger than you. Also, I'm a doctor." It's meant to come out mean but only comes across as a weak argument.

"Still. I knew you when you first started wearing makeup. You're always gonna be a kiddo to me." It sounds soft, and any of the husk that was once in Dixie's voice is now gone.

"What happened to you?" you ask, taking a seat on the edge of her bed.

"I told you: hate crime."

"No, not that— you're different. I mean, I know people change after high school, but still. This is— you're— wow."

"Life sucks. You gotta realise that you can't go around with a blue pixie cut wearing LGBT pride tank tops forever."

"Why? Are you not proud?"

"I am proud. Super proud. But still. Life goes on, and you're expected to grow up. So you do."

There's a silence for a long time, until your voice cracks trying to say, "My girlfriend killed herself."

"What?" She's horrified.

"Yeah. In college, years and years ago."

"Zona, I'm so sorry." But the nickname is old and useless now, and her bruises are too bad for her to be able to hug you.

"Then, I started sleeping with a drug addict, slash my best friend at the time. And you— I needed you, Dixie, and you weren't there. You said you were a call away and you never answered when I did call. Not even when my girlfriend killed herself," you say through tears.

"I didn't— if you had left a message—"

" _No_! No. Do not put this on me. This is not on me, Dixie. This is on you. You said you would be there and you weren't. Not in my sophomore year of high school _or_ college."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. But you have to grow up, Arizona! I tried calling, but all of my friends thought I was fucking weird for calling a high school junior."

"The Dixie I knew would never have given a shit about what other people thought."

"I'm not the Dixie you knew anymore." And that's that.

Dixie's first name is actually Laura, it turns out, and you don't know whether or not you laugh or cry.

/

Calliope Torres reminds you a lot if Amelia Shepherd, in a way.

She's a bombshell, and she's loud and brash and emotional and they kiss in a very similar way. She reels you in, much like Dixie did as teenagers, and makes you want to know every part of her. Although she isn't addicted to narcotics, she seems like an addictive person in general 

It doesn't take long to click in your mind that Dr. Derek Shepherd is Amelia's older brother. She'd told you tales of him, some good and some bad, in med school, and you smile when you see him because he is a good man. He is in fact dreamy, and he is a good older brother, too.

Things with Calliope are simple to begin with. She is hot and beautiful, and likes to both make out and talk about medical stuff. Amelia had preferred making out over anything, and when you tried to help her with an assignment you'd already completed four years before, she stopped speaking to you for a week.

Calliope Torres is the second person that you think could be the love of your life, and the first person you know is.


End file.
